


Opportunity Knocks

by Sarahtoo



Series: Phrack Fucking Friday [31]
Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: A little late, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Phrack Fucking Friday, Porn With Plot, pff, possibilities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-11 23:15:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20554280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarahtoo/pseuds/Sarahtoo
Summary: It's been a couple of months since Jack Robinson let his hair down (metaphorically speaking) with Phryne Fisher. When he runs into her one night, he has to decide whether he plans to take the opportunity that chance has given him or to do the safe thing. How much of a risk-taker is he, really?





	Opportunity Knocks

**Author's Note:**

> So I apparently am not good at this whole "deadline" thing with PFF these days - my last several have been late and this one's no different. Sorry about that! Still, it feels good to be writing again, and I hope that y'all can forgive my tardiness if I bring the smut. ♥

Jack turned the corner from where he’d left his car, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his leather jacket, his eyes searching for his friend Liza.

“Please, Jack,” Liza had said. “We have to have six, and Raj cancelled on us. The escape room people were able to find a pair of blokes to fill out the party, but now we only have five. Please? I really, really like this girl, and I don’t want to have to cancel on her.” She’d clasped her hands together at her chin, her big brown eyes wide and pleading. 

Jack had studied Liza’s face, its dark skin stretching tight under high cheekbones to form a model-beautiful face that had struck him at first as unexpected for a woman in a constable’s uniform. Liza loved the job, though, and she was honest to a fault. He liked that about her, and she’d become a good friend since she’d transferred from City North.

“An escape room, Liza, really? Busman’s holiday, more like.” He wasn’t quite as reluctant as he meant to be—at least doing something like this kept him from yet another Saturday night in front of the telly, alone in his flat.

His recent penchant for hermiting went back to that one nighter he’d had with the beautiful Phryne Fisher. He’d practically run away after what might have been the best sex of his life, unable to process the way his heart was pounding and the fact that he’d _felt_ for the first time in what seemed like forever. And then she’d appeared in the house of a murder victim, all gauzy dresses and fragrant skin, barging into his crime scene being insightful and so damned smart—he’d made an ass of himself, treating her with cold distance and even disdain while he tried not to want her, not to enjoy her company or respect her mind. He was an idiot.

It was true that she’d scared the crap out of him—or rather, how he’d felt when he was with her had scared the crap out of him—and he’d reacted by pulling into his shell and acting the hermit. He was starting to annoy himself. He wasn’t a coward, all appearances aside, and more than once, he’d regretted walking away from their previous encounters without Phryne’s mobile number. If he closed his eyes, he could still—nearly two months later—smell her perfume and feel the velvet of her skin.

Shaking his head, Jack took a deep breath. This wasn’t the time to get lost in fantasies of a woman he might never see again. He was here to help Liza out and hopefully have a good time.

He spotted his friend on the sidewalk, standing huddled against the crisp night air with a couple of other women whose backs were to him. Starting toward them, he took stock of her friends. Both were average height; one had bright red hair caught up in a bun low on her neck, and the other wore a wool hat over short black hair. Both women wore jeans, and the redhead wore what looked like brogues and a leather bomber jacket while the darker-haired one had her hands tucked into the pockets of a wool peacoat in a deep red, her feet encased in high-heeled black boots with wickedly pointed toes. He hoped her mind was as sharp as her fashion sense.

Liza spotted him over her friends’ heads and raised her hand to wave; in reaction, both women turned to look at him as he approached. Jack nearly stumbled as he lowered his hand from its return wave. As if he’d conjured her with his thoughts, the woman in the red coat was none other than Phryne Fisher, and he thought the redhead must be her friend Mac, whom he’d met the night Phryne had picked him up at that club. 

Jack had the space of a half-dozen strides in which to decide how to react. Phryne recognized him immediately, he could tell—and thank goodness for that, since she’d seen all of him—but her friend took a beat longer. Mac’s eyes widened when the penny dropped, and she shot a look at Phryne, whose surprised expression had morphed into a tentative smile.

Swallowing hard, Jack decided to brazen it out. Hadn’t he just been berating himself for not getting her number? He didn’t believe in fate, or so he’d swear if he was ever asked, but this seemed too coincidental. Now he just had to decide whether to grasp this opportunity, and he had an hour where they’d be locked in a room together to make that call.

“Jack!” Liza grinned at him, pointing at Mac behind the redhead’s back, her eyebrows waggling. “Glad you could make it. This is Dr. Elizabeth MacMillan,” Liza’s hand touched Mac’s shoulder, “and her friend Phryne Fisher. Ladies, this is my friend, Senior Detective Inspector Jack Robinson.”

“Hello, Jack,” Phryne said, her voice soft, but she put a snap on the consonant that sent a shiver down Jack’s spine.

“Phryne, nice to see you again,” he responded, knowing that he sounded stiffer than he intended to. He turned to her friend and nodded. “Mac.”

“Inspector,” Mac drawled, narrowing her eyes at him.

“You know each other?” Liza looked from Jack to the two women, her eyes puzzled.

“Oh yes,” Phryne said breezily. “We met at a club a couple of months ago, and danced a bit.” She smiled at Liza, but shot a sideways glance at Jack. “It was fun, but we managed to walk away without each other’s contact information.”

“Yeah, it’s too bad we didn’t get a chance to know each other better,” Mac drawled, one eyebrow arching at her friend.

“My fault, I’m afraid,” Jack said, hoping that Liza wouldn’t see the low-grade panic in his eyes. “I left in a hurry.” He met Phryne’s eyes, and the words just fell out of his mouth. “I’ve regretted it since.”

Pleased understanding lit her eyes, and Jack realized that he’d already made his choice of how to handle this meeting. He wasn’t going to let this chance pass him by.

“Well, you’ll have to remedy it after,” Liza said, glancing at her watch. “We’re due to start in just a minute, so we’d better get in there!”

“Lay on, MacDuff!” Phryne cried, as Liza tugged Mac with her by the simple expedient of a hand on Mac’s arm. “Shall we, Jack?” She tilted her head, indicating the direction in which Liza had pulled her friend.

Wordlessly, Jack stepped up beside her and pushed out his elbow, inviting her to grasp it. When she did, a flush of pleasure that did not bode well for his peace of mind rushed through him. He could hardly bring himself to care.

They walked into the escape room’s lobby, which was kitted out with a row of lockers and a tall counter, but not much else. A hallway stretched out past the desk, and Jack counted two closed doors—in addition to the one behind the desk—set into it. Each door bore a brass plaque; Jack could read “Office” on the one behind the desk, and he assumed the others corresponded to the two themed rooms the business offered. Behind the counter stood a young man in a black polo that bore the business logo. He was speaking to a pair of men, but raised his head to greet them with a smile.

“Hi there,” he said, “Is one of you Liza?”

“That’s me,” Liza said, raising her hand a little.

“Great! I’m Bryan, and I’ll be your room monitor today. It looks like you managed to fill out the half dozen—excellent. These two gentlemen are the others in your party.” He gestured to the two at the counter, who’d turned to look at them.

The two blokes were a little rough around the edges, Jack thought, and he guessed they were blue-collar workers of some kind. He couldn’t imagine either of them in office jobs. One was blonde and blue-eyed, his hair artfully messy; he looked to be about Jack’s own age, and he leaned casually against the counter as he surveyed their party with a cynical air. The other was taller, and thin with it. His dark hair was neatly combed, and his face gave the impression of kindness, though he was as fit as his companion, and a military tattoo peeked from beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt.

“Hi,” Liza said, offering them another small wave. “I’m Liza, and this is Mac, Phryne, and Jack.” She pointed to each of them in turn. “Thanks for helping us out.”

“We’re just glad to have a chance to solve this room—we’ve been wanting to do it for ages,” the dark-haired one said with a smile. “I’m Cec, and this is my mate Bert.” The blonde nodded his head without speaking, a smirk curving his generous lips.

“Great,” Bryan interjected. “I just need the four of you to sign these waivers, and then we can get started.” He laid four clipboards out along the counter and pointed to a jar full of inexpensive ballpoint pens. “When you’ve signed, please pick a locker and tuck your phones, coats, and bags in there.”

The two blokes moved off to empty their pockets, and the four of them followed. When Phryne had to let go of his arm to sign her waiver, Jack immediately felt the absence of her hand. Ridiculous. He barely knew her, and it wasn’t as if she was far away. Shaking his head at his own reaction, he scrawled his name on the waiver and turned to drop off his phone and his jacket. The others were already closing their lockers, and his eyes flew to Phryne. 

She’d removed her hat and was smoothing her hair. She wore a sleeveless red blouse with a neckline that fell in soft folds to expose her collarbone. It was tucked into slim-fitting blue jeans that ended an inch or so above her boots. Jack’s palms tingled with the memory of the heat of her sex as he made her come in the driver’s seat of his truck. He swallowed hard and forced the memory away, at least for now. There’d be time to relive their night together—again—later.

“Just this way,” Bryan said, and led the way down the corridor. As they passed, Jack noted the “A” engraved in the brass plaque on the first door, and another “A” on the second he’d seen. Bryan didn’t stop at either—he led them around a corner at the end of the hallway to a third door, marked “B”.

“OK, have any of you done escape rooms before?” Bryan’s eager eyes scanned them all, and he nodded when Cec and Liza murmured in the affirmative. He blinked at the small snort Bert let out, but didn’t address it. “Right, so for those of you who haven’t, here’s the deal. I’ll lock the doors behind you and start the clock; you’ll have one hour to figure out the clues that will get you through the room. I’ll be keeping an eye on you, and if it looks like you’re getting stuck, I can give you some clues.” He looked around, meeting each of their eyes to see that they were paying attention. 

“All the clues you’ll need are in the room, but I’ll tell you now that there are no clues in the ceiling, nor will you need to force anything open to find them. Please don’t break our room.” He grinned in an attempt to soften the request, and Jack wondered how many times someone had broken something in their excitement or frustration. “Any questions?”

When they all shook their heads, he reached out to open the door and waved them into a room that, though small, didn’t feel crowded when they were all inside. “All right then. Have fun!” He closed the door, and they all heard the click of the latch.

“All right, people!” Phryne said, rubbing her hands together. “Let’s do this!”

As if her words were a command, everyone sprang into action. Before long, they’d split into search partners—the two men, Liza and Mac, and Jack and Phryne—and were checking every surface for clues. Phryne proved to be very good at figuring out the puzzles that corresponded to the locks they found, making intuitive leaps that baffled and impressed Jack. She was clearly one step ahead of the rest of them most of the time, but she wasn’t obnoxious about it—she celebrated as hard as anyone when someone else made a discovery. As they made their way through what turned out to be a maze of three rooms, laughter rang out, and good-natured groans and cheers abounded. Even cynical Bert was grinning with exhilaration when they opened the last lock and spilled out into the corridor with more than ten minutes to spare on the clock. 

As Phryne stepped through the doorway, her heel caught on a loose bit of carpet, and she would have fallen had Jack not caught her, pulling her up against his chest. Her inquiring eyes met his, and he felt his brain melt a little. 

“Thank you,” she said quietly, the piercing blue of her eyes soft.

“I didn’t want you to fall.” Mentally slapping his forehead at the stupidity of that comment, Jack cleared his throat and released her.

Straightening, Phryne gave him a sly smile. “Steady me anytime, inspector,” she murmured, then turned to rejoin the group.

Only Mac seemed to have noticed the byplay—her amused gaze moved between Jack and Phryne, and she shook her head. When she caught Jack’s eye, she tipped an imaginary hat to him, and he felt heat rush to his cheeks even as he narrowed his eyes and tilted his head at the good doctor. He didn’t know what that look was about; there was no subtext here. Just because he’d been close behind Phryne and paying enough attention to her every move that he realized she was going to fall almost before she did, it didn’t mean anything. Really.

“Nice catch, inspector,” Mac murmured as they caught up to the group. “Just be sure you don’t drop her again, will you? She doesn’t deserve the bruises.”

Jack clenched his jaw at this implication that his panicked flight from her bed had affected Phryne in any way. The idea was unexpected, but not unwelcome. Maybe trying again with her could be less terrifying than he thought. He gave the doctor a tight nod of understanding as they were absorbed back into the group, their victory bubbling back up inside him.

Chattering with excitement and adrenaline, the six of them made their way back to the front desk, where Bryan greeted them with a grin.

“Well done! You have the second-fastest time to date in that room—that’s impressive when half your group have never done a room before,” the room monitor said, shaking each of their hands. As a group, they gathered their things, laughing and joking as if they’d been friends for ages, and made their way out into the night.

“I’m famished—does anyone want to get some dinner?” Phryne directed her words to the whole group, including Bert and Cec. Jack approved—those two had more than pulled their weight in the room, and they seemed like decent blokes. 

“Great idea,” he said. “Where shall we go?”

“There’s a Russian place just up the road,” Bert said, his deep voice casual.

“And you have a thing for the hostess,” Cec murmured, just loud enough for the rest of them to hear.

“Shut it,” Bert growled, his cheeks flushing. “I just like the food.”

Cec nodded knowingly, shooting Jack a laughing glance.

“Russian sounds perfect,” Phryne said with a clap of her hands, and the rest of the group nodded. “Come on, then!”

The restaurant was close by, and within ten minutes, they were seated at a table in the small dining room. A tall woman with dark hair handed menus around, her smile lingering on Bert. She’d greeted him like an old friend when they’d arrived, and he’d blushed just a little. Jack smothered a smile—Bert wasn’t so tough after all.

At that moment, Phryne nudged a little closer along the bench seat beside him, her leg pressing against his, and Jack caught his breath. He shouldn’t smirk about Bert’s reaction to a woman; this one had him in knots. She’d been brilliant in the room, her insights leading to several new clues or new ways to interpret the clues they’d already found. He’d found himself reacting with pride, as if he had any right to that feeling. It had been a heady thing, working as her investigative partner, though. His own reactions had been faster and his insights better for having her there. She was… stimulating, in more ways than one. He wished again that he’d handled her involvement in the Andrews case better. Maybe if he’d let her help, things would have wrapped up more quickly.

“So I feel as if we should know more about each other now that we’ve managed to escape our captivity,” Phryne said, laughter threading through her voice. “What do you two do?”

Bert and Cec exchanged a glance. “We own a car-hire business,” Cec said in his quiet voice, his smile slightly shy. “Not limousines—”

“Can you imagine us wearin’ those monkey suits?” Bert put in with a laugh that Cec echoed.

“But we have town cars and vans. We contract with tourist agencies to drive groups around to see the sights, and we drive individual clients.”

“Ohhh,” Phryne said, her eyes lighting up. “Do you have a card? I love to drive, but sometimes parking is such a hassle—it would be wonderful to have an alternative to Uber, especially for events!” She took the card that Bert tugged from his wallet and beamed at them both as she slid the card into her purse. “I sometimes work with my aunt’s charities, too, to provide amenities for its VIPs. I’ll keep this handy!” 

“And what do you lot do?” Bert’s question was friendly, and he smiled up at the young woman who set a bottle of clear liquor in front of him, along with a stack of shot glasses. “Thanks, luv.” Setting the glasses out in a line, he expertly poured a short shot into each one and passed them around. 

“A celebration of the second-best time!” Cec said, lifting his shot. Jack did the same, and the rest followed. “Nostrovia!” 

Jack downed the vodka shot in one gulp, feeling it burn down his throat. He set the glass back on the table with a soft clink a half-second after Phryne’s glass made the same sound. The others followed, one by one. Bert laughed and leaned over to give Jack a companionable slap on the shoulder, and Jack grinned.

“I’m a doctor,” Mac said, in answer to the question Bert had asked and the rest of them had forgotten. “I work at the women’s hospital, and I also teach some classes at the university. Anatomy and the like.” Her sideways glance at Liza included a sly smile that tipped the corner of her mouth. Liza grinned, teeth flashing white against her skin, and she winked at Mac.

“I’m between jobs just now,” Phryne said. “As I said, I do some event work with my aunt, but I’m not sure yet what business I want to get into.”

“You could be an investigator, judging by the way you got through that room,” Cec commented, and Phryne gave him a considering look.

“Hm, I could at that,” she replied. She turned laughing eyes to Jack. “And what would you think about that, inspector?”

Before Jack could answer—he could feel the flirty words about giving her something to investigate making their way to his tongue—Bert cut in.

“Inspector? Are you a cop?” The man’s tone was belligerent, even angry.

“I am,” Jack said, his eyebrows raising at Bert’s reaction. “And so is Liza. We work together at City South.” He considered the sour look that twisted Bert’s face. “Is that a problem?”

“I’ve got no use for cops,” the man muttered, turning his eyes away.

“All cops, or just specific ones?” Phryne’s question was light, but pointed.

“We’ve had some run-ins,” Cec put in, his soft voice serious. “Tickets for loitering when we were just waiting on a client.”

“And for public nuisance, when it was a client leaning his bare arse out the window to moon the moon!” Bert poured himself another shot of vodka and drank it down, his angry eyes landing on Jack again.

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Liza burst out. “Did you oppose the ticket?”

“Nah,” Bert said, and Cec shook his head. “Who’s got time t’ go to court? I’ve got bills to pay, and if I don’t drive, I don’t get paid.”

Jack shook his head, his lips tight with anger. He hated it when police officers threw their weight around for the rich at the expense of those with fewer means.

“Did you get the officer’s name or badge number, by chance?” His voice was a growl. “I’d love to follow up with him or her, especially if they work out of my station.”

“Your station,” Bert scoffed, his disbelief clear. “As if your senior is likely to give a toss about someone like me.”

“Um,” Liza said, a smile tipping her full lips. “I’m pretty sure my senior would absolutely give a toss. Just ask him.” She met Bert’s eyes and tipped her head toward Jack. Bert’s mouth dropped open and his eyes whipped between Liza and Jack, who gave a shrug. 

“I don’t like it when the officers under my command misbehave,” he said simply.

The shock in Bert’s eyes slowly turned to a cautiously pleased surprise, and he relaxed back into his seat. “Awright then,” he said quietly. He was silent for a moment, and then he said, “I don’t have the bloke’s badge number, but I have his name, and I could describe ‘im. I can also tell you that my passenger slipped ‘im a pack of folded bills to change the name on that ticket to mine.”

Jack’s eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. “I’m going to want that name, Bert,” he said, the soft tone of his voice not hiding his fury. “I’ll have that man brought up on charges, whichever station he works for.”

“Perhaps after dinner, though, Jack?” Phryne’s voice was soft in his ear, and he felt her hand slide gently over his thigh beneath the table. “Let’s not let this ruin our victory celebration, hm?”

Jack turned to her, ready to say something, only to be struck dumb once again by the bright blue of her eyes. He closed his mouth and nodded, then turned back to Bert. “Let me give you my number. Ring me t—” the soft squeeze of Phryne’s hand had him changing what he had planned to say “—on Monday. I’ll see what I can do.”

Wordlessly, Bert unlocked his mobile and slid it across the table and Jack quickly put in his number, then sent himself a text so he’d have Bert’s. With a sober nod, he passed the phone back. 

“Now,” he said, forcing cheer into his voice and lifting his menu. “What shall we eat?”

* * *

The friends—and Jack thought, at the end of their dinner, that they might actually be friends—left the restaurant laughing and joking. The food had been delicious, and the company interesting. Jack was happy that he’d let Liza talk him into coming out. To have another opportunity with the woman currently hanging on his arm made it even better—he was very aware of how good Phryne smelled, and his senses were on alert because she’d been touching him for most of the evening. Her leg against his, or her hand on his arm, or a friendly sideways bump to his shoulder—it seemed clear that she might just be willing to start again, or possibly pick up where they’d left off. 

Bert and Cec were the first to leave, citing a need to return to their fleet. Phryne reminded them that she’d be calling soon, and Cec tipped his hat to her as he walked off; Bert confined himself to a small smile and a wave.

“Well,” Liza said, “anyone up for a drink, maybe a dance?” Her eyes were on Mac, and Jack suppressed a smile.

“That sounds fun,” Mac answered, “what do you think, Phryne?” Jack held his breath, waiting for the response. Part of him hoped she’d say yes, and then he could tag along, perhaps get her number this time; part of him wanted her to refuse—Liza was so obviously, to him at least, hoping for some time alone with Mac, and he wanted her to get it.

“It does sound fun,” Phryne said, then sighed, “but I’m afraid not for tonight. I really should get home.” She squeezed Jack’s arm and he caught the admonitory sideways glance she sent him. Ah, so she’d seen Liza’s keenness as well, and possibly an answering light in her friend’s eyes that was only evident to those who knew her well. 

“Another time for me as well,” Jack said, “you two go on, though.” He was rewarded by a small bump of Phryne’s hip and the stroke of her fingers along the inside of his arm, a warm pressure that he could feel even through the leather of his jacket.

“Are you sure?” Mac’s question was aimed at Phryne, and Jack caught Liza’s eyes and the fervent thanks that shone from them. “Oh, but we drove together! How—”

“I’m absolutely sure,” Phryne interrupted with a smile. “I can find my way home… or maybe Jack could give me a lift?”

Inside, Jack was pumping a fist and shouting “Yes!” but out loud he managed to keep his reaction to a simple “I’d be happy to.”

“Good, it’s settled, then!” Phryne released Jack’s arm to give her friend a hug. “Have a wonderful time—I’ll see you later.” Mac nodded, her eyes darting between Phryne and Jack. She leaned in to whisper something in her friend’s ear, then released her as Phryne laughed.

With a small wave, Liza and Mac headed off down the street, heads close together as they discussed where to go. Jack watched Phryne as she watched them go, her smile lingering. Turning to him, she laughed lightly.

“They make a cute couple, don’t they?”

“They do,” Jack agreed. “And Liza’s over the moon right now, I imagine.”

“Mac too,” Phryne said with a grin as she stepped back to Jack’s side, her hand sliding around his bicep. “She’s been eyeing Liza for a while now.”

“That is good news.” Jack turned them around, gesturing to the lot where his truck was parked. They walked in silence for a few steps. “So… I’m taking you home?” 

“Yes please,” she said, and the glance she gave him was heated. “Your home or mine, I’m not picky.”

Jack swallowed hard, his body reacting to the thought that she intended for them to go together, whichever destination he chose.

“My house is still underfurnished—are you still at the Windsor?”

“It’s been two months, Jack, I should hope not!” But her pleasure that he’d remembered where they’d last seen each other was evident. As if he’d been able to forget. “No, I bought a house a couple of weeks after… that night. My staff had it set up in no time.”

“Your staff?” Jack laughed, a little awkwardly. 

Phryne leveled a look at him. “Yes,” she said. “I employ a full-time chef-slash-majordomo who keeps my household running so that I don’t have to, along with a personal assistant—you know her, Jack. Dorothy Williams, the young woman you cleared for the murder of John Andrews.”

“Ah,” Jack nodded, though he wasn’t sure he truly understood. He’d never known someone who employed a staff, except in a professional capacity. “I’m glad to hear that Miss Williams found employment.” He held silent for another minute, realizing that something else needed to be said. “I’m… sorry for how I acted during that case. Toward you.” He looked down at her, hoping that she was willing to listen.

“You were rather beastly,” she agreed quietly, as if remembering. 

He grimaced. He could have reconnected with her then, but instead he’d done his best to push her away. It hadn’t been till afterward that he’d realized his own cowardice.

“I was,” he said flatly. “I have no excuse—you were nothing but helpful, and I was too afraid to acknowledge it.”

She reared her head back in surprise, her mouth falling open. “Afraid? Of me?”

Jack shrugged, his hand coming over to rest on top of hers where it lay on his arm. He was pleased that she hadn’t pulled away. Even though he’d behaved the way he had in an attempt at self-preservation, the fact remained that he’d been unfair—she hadn’t deserved his coldness or his scorn.

“Of myself, really,” he admitted quietly. “You were the first woman I’d… well, since my divorce, anyway.” Her soft inhalation was not quite a gasp, but close to it, and he nodded. “I felt more than I expected. I reacted badly.”

She let that statement hang in the cool night air for a moment, three steps, and then four. 

“And now,” she asked quietly. “Are you ready to try again?”

“I would like that more than anything,” he admitted, his voice low.

“I’m not very good at relationships, Jack.” Her words were solemn. “That’s not what this is, not what it will be.”

Jack swallowed hard. He’d expected that, in a way. Phryne Fisher didn’t seem like the kind of woman who’d want to limit herself in any way.

“What is it, then?” They’d reached his truck, and he reached to open the passenger door for her, turning to hold her eyes.

“We could be friends, Jack,” she replied quickly, her hands rising to press against his chest.

“Just friends?” The words seemed torn from his chest. If that’s what she wanted, he would absolutely give it to her, but he hadn’t really realized just how much he’d hoped for more until this moment.

“Well, I was thinking…” she trailed off, and her smile was sly “...that we could be the kind of friends who sometimes fuck.”

That word coming from her red-slicked lips hit Jack like a fist, and his cock hardened in a rush. Pulling open the door to his truck, he leaned down to lay his lips against hers. The kiss was quick and hard, licking his tongue quickly into her mouth before he raised his head again.

“I think I could cope with that.” 

Phryne grinned as she turned to climb into the passenger seat. “Give me your phone, Jack,” she said, holding out a hand.

Bemused, he unlocked his mobile and laid it in her palm. He watched as she added her contact information, then whipped off her hat and took a quick selfie to program into it, all sly smile and slumberous eyes. With a wink, she passed the phone back to him. 

“Send me a picture of you, Jack?” She held up a finger. “Of your face, please.” 

He laughed, pleased with her, and nodded. Holding up a finger of his own, he tapped the screen and took his own picture, trying to put as much desire in his eyes as she had. With a few more taps, he pocketed the phone, then grinned when he heard the small chime from her purse.

“You’ve got a text, Miss Fisher,” he said.

“Perfect.” Her voice was a purr, and she reached out to stroke his lapel, her hand trailing down his chest. “Let’s go seal the deal, shall we, Jack?”

He covered her hand with his, and gave it a small squeeze before he closed the door to jog around to the driver’s seat. 

* * *

They didn’t speak on the drive to her new home, a grand building on a corner lot on the Esplanade. Its warm yellow walls and distinctive red-painted wrought-iron gate and trim were familiar to Jack—he’d worked this street in his constable days.

“I always wondered what this place was like inside,” he admitted as he parked at the curb in front of her gate.

“Now you’ll see it for yourself,” she said archly. “We’ll start the tour with my bedroom.”

He flashed her a smile. “Sounds perfect.” 

Jumping out, Jack went around to open her door, offering her a hand down. She stepped into him as she got out, pressing close as she set her feet on the ground. Unable to help himself, he leaned in to kiss her again, more thoroughly this time. His hand on the door dropped to her waist to pull her close as he slanted his mouth over hers. Phryne slid a hand up his chest to hook around the back of his neck, pulling him closer as she slid her tongue past his lips. 

Jack groaned lightly at the familiarity of it—she felt and tasted just like he remembered. He’d known that he hadn’t put their night together behind him, but he hadn’t realized that he’d retained every detail. He might be in trouble—she didn’t want a relationship, but his heart didn’t seem to have gotten the memo. _In for a penny, in for a pound,_ he thought, and threw himself into the kiss.

He slid the hand at her waist down to cup her bottom, pushing her back against the side of the truck’s passenger seat with his hips so that she could feel what she was doing to him. With a gasp, Phryne released the hand she’d taken to step down and wrapped it around his neck, her fingers pushing into his hair as the kiss went on. With his hand now free, Jack stroked into her open coat and upward to cover her breast through the silky material of her blouse. When he pinched her nipple between thumb and forefinger, Phryne whimpered slightly and pulled away.

“Jack,” she said, her voice breathless, “come inside.” Her eyes met his, a wicked glint acknowledging the double meaning of her words. 

“If you insist,” he responded, giving her breast and her ass a farewell squeeze before taking a step back. 

Phryne’s hands slid down his chest, her short nails gently raking the front of his shirt. Her eyes on his, she tucked the fingers of her left hand behind his belt buckle and grasped his waistband. He grinned down at her, stepping back again and pulling her with him. He swung the door to the truck shut and pressed the button to lock it, the acknowledging beep loud on the quiet street.

“I do insist,” she said, her tone low. “I look forward to having you in my bed again, inspector.” 

Turning, she tugged him behind her, stepping through the gate into a small front garden. The hedge that had been planted on the inside of the fence was tall, and though he’d peered through the gate in the past, he’d never really been able to see inside. It was pretty, though bare—if it was his, he’d turn it into a showpiece of flowers—and there was a small rose garden off to one side. All of this passed in a bit of a blur as Phryne pulled him by the belt up the stairs to a wide wooden door topped with a half-moon stained glass window that read “Wardlow.” 

Tapping out a code on the keypad in the door, she entered the house. He followed, and she shut the door behind him. Only then did she loosen her grip so that she could divest herself of her coat, hanging it and her purse neatly on the ornate antique stand behind the door.

Jack shrugged out of his jacket as well, leaning over her to hang it on a hook. He breathed out against her neck deliberately, and smiled a little at the shiver that ran through her.

“Come on,” she said, her voice low. Taking his hand, she led him through the small foyer to the staircase—he caught a glimpse of a darkened parlor to one side and a full dining room on the other—and began to climb. Two steps up, she raised her voice to call, “Only me, Mr. B!” before grinning at Jack and increasing her pace. 

Jack’s eyes trailed down her body, admiring the way her bottom filled out the seat of her jeans, and how her heels made her hips sway. He felt his cock harden even more, his own jeans beginning to feel uncomfortably tight. Hopefully, he’d be taking them—and hers—off very soon.

Phryne stopped at a door near the top of the stairs, and Jack pulled up short behind her. The wooden theme continued in the doors and trim, and the hall walls were painted a pale green that contrasted nicely. When Jack’s eyes returned to hers, Phryne swung the door open with a grin.

“Welcome to my boudoir, Jack,” she said, and sauntered inside, her hand in his urging him to follow. He didn’t even attempt to resist.

“Your house is beautiful,” he said, closing the door behind himself and leaning back against it. With a heated look, he reeled her in until her body laid against his, almost at the same angle it had been out on the sidewalk beside his car. Slipping one hand around her waist, he cupped her bottom; she loosed his hand to stroke both hands up to his neck, and he took the opportunity to slide that hand up to cover her breast. “I think this is my favorite room.”

“Mine too,” she responded, her eyes dropping to half-mast and her voice breathless. “Particularly because of the bed.”

“There’s a bed?” Jack quipped, before leaning in to take her mouth again, forcefully this time, his tongue sliding in to find hers and his fingers tightening on her breast. Her pebbled nipple pressed into the webbing between his thumb and forefinger, reminding him of what it felt like against his tongue. Suddenly, he couldn’t wait to taste her again. Sliding both hands to the sides of her blouse, he tugged, pulling it out of the waistband of her jeans. She raised her hands to let him pull the fabric up and over her head, leaving her in a sheer lace bra the same red as her lipstick. Groaning, Jack set his hands at her waist and lifted her, his mouth fastening over one breast through the lace.

Phryne gasped, her arms wrapping around his neck and her legs winding around his waist. He could feel the bite of her fingernails against his skin, and then her hot breath on his ear as she licked his earlobe into her mouth. Jack’s hips lurched at the sensation—who knew his ears were sensitive?—and took a stumbling step forward toward the bed he’d seen only a moment before. 

They plummeted onto the coverlet in a tangle of limbs, Phryne’s husky laughter ringing through the room. She pushed lightly against Jack’s shoulders, rolling with him until she was on top, her knees on either side of his hips. Jack took the opportunity to slip his hands up to cover both of her breasts, the sight of her creamy flesh and that red lace through his fingers making his hips press up against the seam of her jeans. Phryne gasped, pressing her hips down against his as she sat up. With a smile, she straddled his lap and pulled one foot up to unzip it and pull it off, tossing it carelessly over her shoulder. Leaning into his massaging hands, she repeated the action on the other side, then settled her hands on his chest, rocking her hips against him.

“You know what I think, Jack?” Phryne’s words were quiet, but intense. 

“Mph,” Jack grunted—all of his blood had rushed to his cock, and words seemed to be beyond him.

“I think you should make it up to me—the way you treated me during Dot’s case.”

Jack’s eyes flew to hers and he raised his eyebrows questioningly, even as he caught the inner edges of her bra and slid inside, pressing the backs of his fingers against her nipples.

“You seemed to want my hands off your case,” she went on breathlessly, “when I was trying to help Dot.” 

His regret must have shown in his eyes, because she shook her head and lifted a hand to stroke his cheek. “No, Jack, you’re forgiven. Just… I think it would make me feel better if you were hands off for a little while.”

Jack’s hands stilled on her breasts, her nipples caught between his fingers. “What—” he croaked, then cleared his throat. “What do you mean?”

Phryne leaned in to kiss him, her lips sweet and her tongue sweeter. “Let’s get these clothes out of the way and I’ll show you,” she whispered. Then she swung her leg over his and stood, unbuttoning her jeans. 

Jack lay there, his cock hard as stone, as she slid those jeans off, revealing a pair of lace underpants that matched the bra she still wore. When she tossed the jeans aside, she leaned over to untie his boots, sending him a look that urged him to help. Licking his lips, Jack sat up and tugged his t-shirt up and over his head as first his boots, then his socks, dropped away. Pushing off the edge of the bed, he stood, and Phryne stepped close to set her hands to his belt buckle. The brushing of her small hands over his cock, even through denim, was thrilling, and Jack cupped her face in his hands.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered against her lips, and he felt them curve as he kissed her. 

Her hands didn’t cease their work, and soon they slid along his hips inside his briefs; a moment later, his jeans were down around his thighs and her hands were hot on his cock. He lifted his mouth from hers, a curse leaving his lips. 

“Back on the bed, Jack,” she said, reaching up on her toes to lick at his lower lip. “Let’s get these all the way off.” Releasing her hold on his cock with a smooth base-to-tip caress, Phryne nudged Jack toward the bed.

He complied, sitting on the edge to shake off the last of his garments before scooting backward to lay his head atop the pillows. 

“Excellent,” Phryne purred. “Now, hands up, Jack. That headboard is solid iron, so you needn’t worry about harming it.” At Jack’s raised eyebrows, she laughed, climbing up onto the bed beside him. “Hands off, Jack, remember?” She leaned in to kiss him softly even as she lifted his arms to press his hands against the curls of her headboard. “I promise, you’ll enjoy it.”

“I am at your disposal, Miss Fisher,” he said, his voice low. He watched as her expression lit with a wicked sort of delight and knew that he would enjoy whatever she was up to very much indeed.

Phryne knelt up beside him, her hands snaking around to unfasten the clasp of her bra and peel it down her arms. Her tip-tilted breasts, just as perfect as he remembered, bounced lightly as she tossed the garment away. Hands at her hips, she shimmied the matching knickers down to her knees, exposing the dark thatch of hair at the junction of her thighs. As she lowered herself to one hip, slipping them the rest of the way off, Jack’s mouth watered at the memory of how the sweet flesh of her nipples felt against his tongue, and the flavor of her juices—he hoped that he’d have the opportunity to taste both again tonight.

Nude, Phryne moved closer to his side again and laid her spread hands on his chest. She stroked upward to his shoulders and back down; her touch on his skin left a trail of fire behind and Jack’s eyes fluttered at the sensation. 

“You are a beautiful man, Jack Robinson,” she whispered, leaning in to touch her tongue to one of his nipples. The sensation hit Jack like a prod, and his hips jerked, his cock bouncing against his stomach. 

Glancing up at him, Phryne held his eyes as she licked him again, the fingernails on her far hand scraping lightly across the other nipple. Her breasts brushed softly against his side, her own nipples hard and pointed.

“I meant,” she said, beginning to lay kisses across his chest and down his stomach, “to taste you, that night we had together. But you left before I could.” Her hands, which had been stroking his skin, paused on his hipbones, her thumbs making small circles at the lower edge of the angled muscle of his hips.

“I’m sorry,” Jack replied, his hands flexing against the headboard.

“As you should be,” Phryne said, a wicked smile stretching her mouth. “I give excellent head.” At Jack’s groan, she moved down his body, her hands lifting and coming down on the tops of his thighs, her breath washing over his aching cock. She straightened, carefully positioning herself to kneel between his legs—he bent his knees wide to accommodate her presence there, hoping that she’d take him as the willing offering he was.

“You have very strong legs,” she commented, running her hands down the tops of his thighs and then back up the inside to stroke the skin that stretched on either side of his balls. Her head was bowed, her eyes on his cock where it lay against his stomach, long and hard.

“Bicycling,” Jack forced out between clenched teeth. His neck was tense from holding his head up, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away—the sight of her so close to his aching flesh, her alabaster skin contrasting with the smudged slash of red that had been her lipstick was too compelling.

“Oh, that would explain it,” she said brightly, her hands stroking up the crease of his thighs and back down again. She leaned forward, her hands bracketing his cock, her breath warm. “I bet you look delicious when you ride, Jack.” The crisp click of the last letter of his name made his cock jump, and she met his eyes as her words whispered over him. “Just delicious.”

With that, she laid the flat of her tongue at the base of his cock and dragged it to his tip, her hands sliding down to cup his balls and wrap around his base, squeezing lightly.

“Fuck,” Jack said, the word drawn from him as if it had been pulled. Phryne’s lips were wrapped around his dick now, her tongue massaging his head as she pulled him into her mouth. Unable to tear his eyes away, Jack dropped a hand to her head—only to have her pull away. 

“No, no,” she said, wagging a finger at him even as her hand on his cock began to move slowly up and then down the length of him. “Hold onto the headboard, Jack. This is your hands-off time.”

With a short laugh, Jack complied, and Phryne gave him a proud smile. “Good. Now keep them there.”

“Yes ma’am,” he managed, and Phryne laughed, her hands—both now—stroking his cock, her thumbs pushing over the crown in a way that felt similar to pushing into her body. Helplessly, Jack’s hips jerked, and he hissed in a breath, his head falling back and his eyes closing.

“Maybe keeping your hands to yourself would be easier if you had something to occupy that very fine mind,” Phryne whispered, and her hands left him.

“No,” he moaned, and she shushed him.

“Shhhh. I’m only adjusting,” she said, and he lifted his head, wrenching his eyes open to see what she meant. The bed shifted as she settled her hips on his shoulders, her hands recapturing his cock as she positioned her sex within reach of his mouth. 

His hands were loosening their hold on the headboard, eager to feel her, his eyes devouring the soft wetness of her sex, but he froze when she cautioned him. 

“Ah-ah-ah. No hands, Jack, remember?”

Jack groaned and nodded, tightening his grip as he lifted his head to lick her, his tongue sliding between her nether lips to circle her clit and find the nectar that leaked from her body. She let out a gasping breath, and then the wet heat of her mouth was engulfing him again. A moan rumbled from his chest, and Jack began to eat her in earnest, his tongue plunging inside her body, his face wet with her body’s moisture. 

His hands flexed on the headboard as he fought to keep them in place. She needed to come soon—he was going to explode, and as amazing as her mouth was, he wanted the tight squeeze of her body around him. Determined to get her off, he wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked lightly, his tongue fluttering against the sensitive tip. Phryne’s hands around his cock spasmed, and he could feel her panting breaths as her focus shifted from his pleasure to her own. Just a little more, he thought, breathing in her musky-sweet fragrance; he used his tongue more widely, lapping at her, plunging inside, and then retreating to suckle at her clit again.

With a wail, Phryne climaxed, her body shaking against him; the hard tips of her nipples poked into his stomach and her hands locked tight around his cock.

“Please, Phryne,” he said into her fragrant flesh, “fuck me.”

Still shaking, Phryne pushed herself up, swinging her leg over his head until she was sat up beside him again; she leaned in to kiss him, her tongue working against his, and Jack lifted his head, hoping to get closer.

“Please,” he growled against her lips. “Fuck me, or I’m going to fuck you.”

Phryne laughed, her hand on his cheek, and straightened, reaching for a pretty carved box that sat on her bedside table. She lifted the top and pulled out a condom, turning back to look at him. 

“That’s enough hands-off time,” she said, tearing the packet open and moving to roll the condom onto his cock. 

Wordlessly, Jack let go of the headboard and pressed his mouth to hers as he sat up, his arms wrapping urgently around her. With a tug, he had her positioned over his lap, her legs spread on either side of his hips. 

Pausing, he lifted his head and met her eyes. “Ready?” The word was a growl; in answer, she reached between their bodies and caught his cock in her hand, placing its tip at the entrance to her body. 

“More than,” she whispered, and pushed down onto him, taking him deep inside her body. 

Jack groaned again, letting his forehead fall to hers as her walls closed around him, hot and tight. “Good, so good,” he murmured, his hands slipping down under her thighs to lift her up and lower her down again.

“Jack,” his name was a whisper of sound against his lips, and he responded by closing the distance to kiss her again. 

Their mouths connected, Phryne began to move, her thighs flexing as she rose and fell upon him. Jack’s hands roamed her skin, unable, it seemed, to get enough—he palmed her breasts, stroked her sides, tunnelled his fingers into her hair—and all the time he kissed her, his tongue in her mouth, her tongue in his, their lips clinging as they moved together, striving as one for the peak. 

When Phryne pulled back to set her hands on his thighs, the better to balance herself as she moved, Jack lowered his head to take her nipple into his mouth, loving the way she moaned at the contact, her hips stuttering. Her breasts weren’t large, but they were sweet, with large nipples that fit the hollow of his tongue perfectly. He suckled strongly before switching to the other side, rubbing his face against her skin as he moved from one breast to the other. Phryne lifted a hand to fist it in his hair as she continued to work herself against him, and he reveled in the slight pain as she pulled. 

“Jack!” 

Her voice registered distantly and Jack lifted his head, his eyes blurry, her flavor rich on his tongue. When she saw she had his attention, she smiled, grasped his shoulders, and pulled him over, landing on her back with his full weight upon her. A gust of breath leaving her lungs, she kissed him again, fiercely. Gathering himself, Jack took up her rhythm, his knees and toes pressed against the nubby velvet of her coverlet, his cock pounding inside her body. 

Another minute and she convulsed around him, her teeth sinking into his lower lip as her internal muscles rippled against him in climax. The pinch was enough to push him over the edge, and he came, his hips stuttering against hers, his body shaking with the force of his release.

Arms trembling, Jack lowered himself onto Phryne, doing his best to stay off to one side so he didn’t crush her. She wrapped her arms around him, one leg lifting to hook around his hip and keep him connected to her. They lay together, bodies replete, as their breathing came back to normal. 

Eventually, Jack gently disengaged himself and looked for Phryne’s bathroom to dispose of the condom. She pointed a languid arm to the corner of her bedroom, and he nodded.

“I’ll be right back,” he murmured, getting up from the bed, the condom secured with two fingers.

“To bed, right, Jack?” Phryne asked, her voice quiet.

Jack looked at her and nodded. Here was more evidence that his leaving the last time had affected her—he couldn’t deny that the idea caused a rush of warmth in his chest, he was so happy to have been wrong about that. Holding up one finger, he ducked into the bath, threw away the condom and washed his hands. 

Looking up, he met his own eyes in the mirror. He hadn’t been wrong, the last time. This woman could be the making or the breaking of him, and his heart was bound to take a beating, either way. It seemed, though, that he’d made his decision to see this through. Friends with benefits would be enough, at least for now. Maybe over time they’d become more, and maybe they wouldn’t, but he was going to enjoy what they had while it lasted.

With a smile, he dried his hands and headed back into the bedroom, fragrant with the scents of perfume and lovemaking, to slide under the covers with a remarkable woman.

“I think perhaps this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” he murmured as he pulled her close. 

“I like the sound of that,” Phryne replied softly, pillowing her head against his chest. “Wake me up in a little while and we can celebrate. Again.”

Chuckling, Jack pressed a kiss to her hair and settled in to sleep a while before waking to the next part of this adventure. He had to admit, he was looking forward to it.


End file.
